


Go West, Young Man

by QuestionableCorrosion



Category: End Roll (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Mindscrew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 00:58:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8469649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuestionableCorrosion/pseuds/QuestionableCorrosion
Summary: Russell goes off the intended path to find something he can't find alone.





	

_"Russell... What did you do with your heart from back then?"_

Russell rarely felt the need to speak up in general, but not a single word escaped his lips on their trek back through the construction site.

His companions followed him without murmur: Kantera smiling faintly, Tabasa eyeing their surroundings with vague interest, Cody lost in thoughts of her own. No-one made a single comment about the monster they had vanquished, or brought up the words she had spoken before the battle. Small mercies.

Back on surface level, they exited the hotel. Russell looked around the beach without seeing it, feeling a strange pull towards north. Without waiting for his command, his feet had already taken a few uncertain steps towards the path.

He halted.

"Doctor Kantera..." His voice sounded thin even in his own ears. "Is it okay if we don't go to Dragons' Peak today?"

"Oh my..." Kantera blinked a few times, then smiled. "Of course. You shouldn't push yourself when you're exhausted. As a matter of fact, I'm feeling somewhat fatigued, myself."

Cody nodded. "Yeah, we've been to a lot of places already. We should probably head back before Dogma comes up with some ridiculous reason why we've been gone for so long."

"Yeah, speaking of time..." Tabasa gazed towards the sea and at the darkening dusk. "Yumi browbeat me into helping her with patrolling the town tonight. Gotta get back in time." He didn't look too thrilled at the prospect.

"If everyone agrees, 'tis perfectly fine, is it not?" Kantera tilted his head. "No need to fret. Dragons' Peak will still be there tomorrow."

Russell barely heard him. His thoughts were on a monster with green eyes and silvery hair.

When they reached the gate that would lead them to Dragons' Peak, he walked decisively past it.

 

* * *

 

Russell's hand lingered at the door.

Each day, he had felt a chill running up his spine upon returning home. That night, it was more like a wave of nausea, a sickly awareness he had intentionally failed at what he had been sent to accomplish.

He glanced skywards. It was dark, but not so dark he couldn't see ahead of himself. Perhaps it wasn't too late.

He traversed the path towards Kantera's shop, feverishly trying to come up with the best way to say he had changed his mind and wished to go to Dragons' Peak at once, and would Kantera please come with him after all.

Kantera had the lights on. That was promising.

Russell's hand was already on the front door, ready to slide it open, when he glanced to his left.

Gardenia had the lights on, too.

Russell's hand fell back down. He hesitated.

He walked away from Kantera's house and knocked on Gardenia's door, instead. Without waiting for a response, he walked in.

Gardenia sat on a chair near the stove, waving her feet lazily in the air. She jumped on her feet as the door slammed open, but relaxed as soon as she recognised him.

"Heeey, Russell!" she chirped, a hint of surprise still in her voice. "How come you're up so late?"

"...I wanted to see you." He hadn't been sure what had drawn him there, exactly, but upon actually seeing Gardenia, he knew. Though separate people both in the dream and out of it, Gardenia bore an uncanny resemblance to the girl from the aquarium.

Gardenia laughed airily. "Works for me!" She sat back down. "If you stay a while, you'll get some meat pie fresh from the oven."

Russell sat down on the chair Gardenia gestured at, looking around. There was indeed a pie in the oven, a delicious one by by the smell of it. Gardenia's angelic double was nowhere to be seen, so he assumed she had retired to bed.

"How come you're cooking so late?" he asked.

Gardenia rubbed her eyes. "I needed something to do to stay awake. Don't want to fall asleep before Dad comes home."

Russell took a keen interest on the surface of the table. "...Yeah."

Gardenia, on her turn, was as chipper as ever. "Sooo....how was your day? Was Dragons' Peak cool? I've never been there, but I really wanna go!"

"We didn't go there." When Gardenia tilted her head in puzzlement, he added: "...We got sidetracked."

"Oh." Gardenia's smile beamed on unabated. "Where did you go instead?"

"Cloakpoint at first. Then Cody wanted to go to Darcover Town." Russell frowned. "That's supposed to be a secret from Dogma."

"No problem!" Gardenia mimed zipping her lips.

"Then we went to the seaside. Visited both of the hotels." From the vengeful kelpie, to Puddle Apartments and the memory of Chris, and finally the underground construction site, the seaside hotels had been the longest part of Russell's already long day.

"Cool! But the next time you go, take me with you! It's been ages since I..."

Russell no longer heard Gardenia. He no longer saw her, either. All he saw was a void, and the ghost of a silver-haired girl with mournful eyes.

_"What did you do with your heart?"_

Russell opened his mouth to reply, only to discover he had no response.

What had he...

"Russell?" Gardenia was right in front of him on the other side of the table, waving her hand in front of Russell's eyes. "You look weird."

"...Sorry." Russell leaned against the back of the chair.

"Is there something on your mind?" While Russell had been out of it, Gardenia had pulled the pie out of the oven, and now removed her oven mitts from her hands. "Do you wanna talk?"

"I don't know." Above everything else, he had to get back on the same line of thought he had a moment before. What had he done...

"I... just realised I lost something important on the way," he finally said.

"While you were out today?" When Russell didn't respond, Gardenia continued with: "Something really important?"

"I think so." Russell considered it further. "...Yes. Really important."

"Oh, that's bad." Gardenia's face fell for the briefest of moment, only to make way for determination. "Maybe we can still find it? I'll help!"

Russell was about to dismiss the entire cause as futile, to reveal the thing he had lost was probably gone forever, but something about Gardenia's earnest desire to help him made him realise something.

It wouldn't hurt to look.

It probably wouldn't help either, but...

"Yeah...I think I'll look for it. You should stay here." He met Gardenia's eyes and spoke up quickly before she could protest: "What if your dad shows up while you're gone?"

"Oh. Right." Gardenia's brow furrowed. "Guess I'm staying here. Anyway...if the thing you lost is really important, I think you should go find it before night comes. Then you can sleep without worrying!"

Russell felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards. "Guess so." He stood up. "I'll go now, actually."

"Wait!" Gardenia jumped off her seat and turned back towards the stove, wrapping the still steaming pie on it in a checkered cloth before holding it out towards Russell. "Take this with you!"

Russell accepted the pie without thinking. "This..."

"In case you get hungry on the way. I have enough ingredients to make five more, anyway." Gardenia smiled. "It's best when it's fresh, okay?"

Russell stared at the pie in his hands, then at Gardenia. "...Thank you."

"No problem! And don't worry too much. You'll find what you're looking for. I know it."

Stunned, Russell stumbled outside. After closing the door, he stood in front of it, feeling the pie's warmth spreading into his hands even through the cloth.

Gardenia's words echoed in his mind.

Spurred by unfamiliar determination, he made his way back to Kantera's house.

 

* * *

 

"Good grief, and here I thought you'd take the opportunity to have a good night's rest. The hastiness of youth..." Despite his words, Kantera kept smiling.

Russell stared at his feet. "I'm sorry. I know this messes up our plans..."

Kantera held his hand up. "Please, there's no need for you to explain yourself. 'Twas merely a suggestion in the first place, and like I said before, we can always postpone our visit if you'd rather go there at a later time." The look he gave Russell was the very spirit of graciousness. "Yes. Go find what you lost."

Russell nodded, his gaze still low. "I'll do my best."

"I know you will." Kantera hesitated. "Only...don't do anything on the way you'll later regret."

From his tone, it was almost like he knew what Russell was missing. "I'll try not to."

"Yes." The smile fell off Kantera's face. "It's sometimes difficult to tell in advance what you'll regret, is it not?"

In the end, it didn't matter Russell had never visited Dragons' Peak. Looking at Kantera now and squinting, he could make out a blurry shadow superimposed over him, a spectre of another doctor so very similar to him.

While his thoughts had been occupied by this double vision, Kantera had turned away and returned with something in his hands. "If you truly wish to leave at once, please allow me to give you this."

Frowning, Russell placed the pie on the counter to his right and accepted the piece of clothing Kantera offered him. It was some sort of a kimono jacket, the same shade of grey as Kantera's clothes, meant to be tied in front with a ribbon.

"It's a chanchanko. Nights here can be awfully chilly." Kantera looked a bit sheepish. "I'm afraid 'tis a hand-me-down, so..."

Russell brought the chanchanko closer to his face and breathed in the faint smell of herbs that clung to it. A sense of genuine calmness that had abandoned him since the morning resurfaced for a moment.

His eyes met Kantera's. "Thank you."

Something similar to sadness glittered in Kantera's eyes. "'Tis the least I can do."

 

* * *

 

"W-well, if you're really going...just a moment."

Russell looked on with interest as Cody placed a large, see-through bowl three-quarters filled with a colourful motley of dried plant parts on the table.

"It's potpourri." When Russell nodded, she gave a minute shrug. "It's a new combination I'm trying out. ...You can give it a smell if you want."

Russell took the bowl and breathed in deeply. It smelled like a summer's night, when twilight had stretched on longer than on any night before or after it, and he and Chris had laid on the grass on the outskirts of town, trying to spot stars through chinks in the clouds. A blessed moment when Russell had forgotten why he had been so willing to delay going home and stay at Chris' place for the night.

He placed the bowl back on the table, doing his best to keep his arms from shaking. "...It's nice."

"You can have some." Cody retrieved a ladle and a smaller container with a green lid. She spooned out two full ladlefuls of the dried plants into the container.

"I mean..." her cheeks reddened as she screwed the container shut. "I know it's not the most useful thing, but if you have to go far and find yourself in a place where it's difficult to sleep, it should help."

Russell shifted his bearings so that they were balanced on his arms, then accepted the container.

"Thanks," he said with his most earnest voice.

Cody's blush remained. "Hold on, I'll give you something else too. I have some Homeward Rooties and Edama—"

"I only want this."

"I can't send you off with just that!" Cody protested. "Food and warm clothes are way more useful, and I need to repay you for keeping my secret today."

"This is the best thing I could ask for." It wasn't just the gift itself, but the spirit in which it was given.

"O-oh..." Cody gave a stunned blink, then looked away. "Well, if you're sure."

"I am." For a flicker of a moment, Russell discovered he could still smile sincerely.

 

* * *

 

"No kidding? Any idea when?"

Russell shook his head and folded his arms to better shield himself from the quickly chilling night air. He thought he saw Tabasa's breath fog, but since it only happened once, it was probably his imagination.

Tabasa eyed their darkened surroundings with a frown. "I'll admit, I'm not cheering at the idea of leaving town this late..." He returned to Russell with a thin smile. "But if you need help, I'll come with you. No problem."

Russell shook his head again.

"Eh? Are you sure?"

Russell nodded. "I know what I'm doing."

"Okay..." To say Tabasa looked unconvinced was an understatement. Ultimately, he shrugged. "Well, I won't tell you what to do. It's your own business."

He eyed the chanchanko in Russell's arms. "I'll give you some advice though. It's good that you have a jacket, but if it gets colder than that..." He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Come with me for a sec."

Russell followed him to his home and waited patiently was Tabasa scoured his belongings and returned with a folded blanket.

Tabasa's smile had regained its usual warmth. "The more insulation the better."

Russell raised his arms so Tabasa could better place the blanket on top of the chanchanko. "Thanks."

"No problem. Just come back in one piece, okay?"

Russell had already turned to leave when Tabasa called after him.

"Hey, Russell...if you happen to walk by the grave, could you pay your respects at it in my place?" He grimaced. "I didn't have time to go today, and I feel kinda bad about it..."

Russell nodded. "I'll do it."

Tabasa's smile followed him outside. Against all odds, it kept the cold air somewhat at bay.

 

* * *

 

"I...I made this earlier." The container Mireille handed him was similar to the one Cody had given him, only with a blue lid, and instead of potpourri filled with some kind of soup. "It's Moonfish Soup. I...I hope I got it done properly. The recipe's a tricky one...but it's supposed to be very good for you...!"

"Thanks..." Russell wasn't fully listening, his concentration sapped away by the barely visible ghost clinging to her.

Mireille was much harder to place than Kantera. Russell had to focus heavily to see the ghost, and try as he might, he could only remember snippets of her tale.

He met Mireille's eyes, their bright green so vivid it almost looked like they glowed, and her soft, kindly smile.

He remembered enough.

"A-are you really sure you're safe going out there?" Mireille fidgeted with her hands. "It could be dangerous with the monster!"

"It's okay. I'll keep my eyes open."

"O-of course..." Mireille's gentle voice gained an edge of reproach. "Even so, I don't think the master would approve if he was awake."

Russell shrugged. "Probably not." He wasn't sure anyone in town really approved and wasn't just going along because he willed it. "Thanks for the soup."

"Um..." Abruptly, Mireille bowed her head. "P-please take care of yourself...!"

For a blink of an eye, Russell couldn't see Mireille at all, only the nurse.

He nodded.

 

* * *

 

"Well," Dogma finally said after an argument that had felt a lot longer than the ten minutes it had actually taken, his scowl relaxing but not disappearing. "Since it's clear I can't change your mind, the least I can do is make sure you're prepared."

He looked around the church. "Let's see...Cody made some potpourri—"

Russell raised the container in his left hand. "She gave me some, too."

"...Oh." After a pause, Dogma pressed on undaunted. "Well, I also have some Moonfish Soup..."

Wordlessly, Russell raised the container in his right hand.

"Er..." That seemed to have stumped Dogma. "There's...not much else I can give you, but I can't exactly send you off empty-handed..."

Russell looked at the considerable pile of items in his arms and battled a rare desire to smile.

Inspiration flashed in Dogma's eyes. He bowed his head and slipped the cross around his neck over it.

"Here." Stepping forward, he slipped the chain around Russell's neck, instead. "I know it's not much, but... I hope it will protect you."

His hands full, the best Russell could do was to crane his neck for a better look at the cross. For such a small thing, it felt strangely heavy. "You're really giving me this?"

"It's fine." Dogma gave a deep sigh and folded his arms. "Stay safe."

Russell already had one foot outside when rebounded back in. "Dogma?"

"Yes?"

"...Will you pray for me?"

Dogma blinked in surprise, but when he next spoke, his voice was very gentle. "Of course."

 

* * *

 

The rucksack was old and a bit battered, but sturdy and clearly maintained with love.

Yumi hummed as she adjusted the straps to better fit Russell's frame. "There ya go. Much better than lugging all that stuff by hand, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks." No matter how he strained himself, even after being able to place everyone else he had met that night, Yumi was still just Yumi. No shadow emerged regardless of how intently he stared. He had a sinking feeling it shouldn't have been the case — surely she was another one of him victims, and just as important as the rest — but he couldn't force himself to remember.

Yumi didn't seem to notice his consternation. "Ya shouldn't go out there alone, kid. It's got bad idea written all over it."

"I won't be going alone."

Yumi nodded. "That's good. There's safety in numbers. Want me to tag along, too?"

Russell shook his head. "What if the monster shows up while you're gone?"

"Oh, yeah." Yumi raised her chin up, clearly pondering something. "Lemme give you something else for your trip, then."

Whatever it was, Russell couldn't see. Yumi placed the item directly in the rucksack without showing it to him.

"An Enigmafish Hamburger," she said as she re-zipped the rucksack. "Havin' more grub never hurts."

She walked back in front of him and ruffled his hair. "Keep yer chin up, then."

His smile was long gone by then, but Russell nodded and did his best to look determined.

 

* * *

 

"I'm leaving town," were the first words out of his mouth upon barging into The Informant's shop.

The Informant raised his eyebrow and set aside the book he had been reading, but appeared mostly unperturbed. The opposite, in fact. It was like he had been waiting for Russell to say something similar.

"Running away, are you?" He stood up and faced Russell. "How exactly do you think you'll run away from your own mind?"

"It's not running away. I'm looking for something."

The Informant's smirk spread. Though Russell had no idea how, from the look he gave him it was obvious he knew exactly what Russell was missing. "And where do you think you'll find it?"

"I don't know," Russell answered honestly.

"That's what I thought. Let's review, then..." The Informant raised up his index finger. "First of all, you're just about to wake up in the real world, after failing to do what you were meant to do today. You have..." his smirk dropped for an instant. "...felt quite a lot of guilt today, but even if you're allowed back, that'll be the only second chance you'll get."

Russell shrugged. "Then I just won't wake up." Surely his willpower had something to do with it.

"Really, now? Putting that aside..." The Informant raised another finger. "Secondly, you have no idea where to start looking. And thirdly..." He raised a third finger. "Even if you find what you're looking for, what good will it do? Will you even be able to recognise it for what it is?"

"I won't know until I try."

"True enough." Despite his words, The Informant shook his head. "So that's it, then? You're giving up on your chance of redemption for a wild goose chase?"

Russell lowered his gaze. "...It's already too late for that."

"If you think that, then the whole experiment is pointless. You might as well wake up and face the music."

Russell willed himself to be steel. "Or I could stay here a little longer and try something else. If it's pointless, it shouldn't matter."

"Believe it or not, time passes on independent of you," The Informant said coolly. Suddenly, he shrugged, his smirk spreading ever further. "Still, you're right. Go ahead and do your thing. Like you said...it's already too late anyway."

It was then that Russell made his play. "Come with me."

The Informant faltered, the smirk freezing on his face. "What?"

"I want you to come with me. I was told I shouldn't go alone."

The Informant didn't exactly frown, but his serene appearance looked more like a mask than ever. "Take one of the others. That's what they're here for."

"I want to take you."

At that, The Informant's smile smile returned in earnest. He shook his head. "You hate me."

"I do." Russell saw no reason to deny the fact.

"Heh..." The Informant brought his fist to his mouth and began to chuckle under his breath. Russell waited patiently for his laughter to subside.

"I see how it is," The Informant finally said, lowering his hand. His eyes pierced straight into Russell's soul. "...Alright, I'll come with you. I'm looking forward to it, in fact."

Russell nodded. Somehow, he had known The Informant would follow. A thought occurred to him. "How will...will the town be okay if I leave?"

"It won't get worse than it is until you come back. So, as long as you don't return..."

Russell nodded again. He had known somewhere deep within that abandoning the town meant he could never come back. It was probably why he had felt so compelled to see everyone before his departure and speak with them one last time. They hadn't been proper farewells...but maybe it was better that way.

It was too late, anyway.

The Informant hesitated before suddenly speaking up. "There's the monster, though."

Russell had almost forgotten about it. "That won't go away? I hoped it would follow me."

"It will hurt anyone who gets in its way, but it's not after you. It's someone else."

Russell considered his options. "Then I have to take care of it before I leave."

The corners of The Informant's mouth twitched. "Now? Alone?"

"I've dealt with worse." He had no idea if he had, really, but he felt confident saying so anyway. He was a lot stronger than he had been at the start of the day.

"You have no idea what it even is."

"But you do." It was a guess, but since The Informant seemed to know everything... "You could tell me."

They stared at each other for a long while. Russell's eyes began to ache as they dried up, but he refused to blink.

Finally, with a sigh, The Informant averted his eyes. "It's after Yumi."

Halfway through the explanation, Russell remembered.

He was still reeling when The Informant walked back to him wielding a broken bottle and said: "Let's get it over with, then."

 

* * *

 

The cross Tabasa had made basked in moonlight. The dark flowers adorning it were wilting around the edges.

Russell got down on his knees before the cross. How was he meant to pay his respects, exactly? The offering was already in place, and he couldn't hold a funeral procession on his own.

Drawing on what little he knew, he brought his fingers together and made a cross sign over his chest. He had a nagging feeling he hadn't done it quite right, but it would have to do for now.

For a moment, he allowed his thoughts to dwell on the dead to be remembered. The rucksack on his back felt heavier.

"Where to?" The Informant asked, looking around with bored eyes. With him so nonchalant, it was easy to pretend they hadn't just tracked down and slaughtered the monster lurking in the shadows. Almost too easy.

Russell got back on his feet. For all his newfound guilt, their earlier deed had left him no worse for wear. He walked to the edge of the cliff and crouched down. "Here."

"That's where you lost it?"

"Maybe." He had no idea where to start looking. "I haven't checked there, yet."

The smile The Informant gave him was that of a person enjoying a private joke. "Lead the way, then."

Focusing solely on the drop ahead, Russell gingerly threw his leg over the edge and probed the hillside for a foothold. Finally finding one, he began his slow descend.

The first few yards were the hardest, with the cliff-side almost vertical and the soft ground under his feet that covered the stone underneath threatening to slide down and take him with it at any sudden movement. Momentarily, he entertained the thought of tossing the rucksack away, since its weight made it harder to guess where each swing would lead him, but he dismissed the thought as soon as it came up and kept inching downwards.

His patience was rewarded with the slope evening from a straight drop to a gentler curve, and while he still had to keep hold of the hillside by both hand and foot if he didn't want to tumble down, he was more and more confident he could make it down without incident.

From the sounds from above, he guessed The Informant had made his way over the cliff, too. He didn't dare look up.

The ground was even further away than it had looked from the top, and full night had descended long before Russell's feet were on level with the forest's undergrowth. His eyes accustomed to the dark, he frowned at his new surroundings. Only one kind of plant grew there besides grass and eye-covered trees: a tall flower with maple-like leaves and purple, curdling blossoms.

"Wolf's bane," supplied The Informant, sliding onto solid ground after him much sooner than Russell had expected. "You saw them in passing in a documentary once. So many important things you didn't bother to learn, and that's what you remember."

Russell ignored him and looked ahead. The forest stretched on as far as he could see — which admittedly wasn't much, since the moon and the stars only shed so much light.

He took off the rucksack and withdrew the blanket from it. "We'll camp here." Finding a spot with as few wolf's banes as possible, he spread the blanket onto the ground.

"A single blanket won't keep us warm."

"It won't," Russell admitted. He kicked his shoes off and lay down on one side, closing his eyes. Soon enough, he heard rustling and felt The Informant lie down next to him.

After a long silence, Russell squinted one eye open. The Informant made no reaction, so he sat up. Still nothing.

His eyes went to the rucksack. The knife he had used to kill the monster was in the front pocket, just waiting to be used.

His head sank back down.

Soon enough, as warm and comfortable as he'd ever been in a bed, he drowsed off.

 

* * *

 

The next day, the forest proved itself treacherous. Apparitions from Catties to Kelpies to dark figures Russell had no name for danced between tree trunks, laughing, taunting, hissing threats. The ground beneath him gave way, only to reveal itself to be perfectly harmless as soon as he stopped and touched it. Whispers followed him everywhere, muttering words but so quietly he could make no sense of them, and singing a familiar tune.

He next time the ground turned blood-splattered before his eyes, he sat down cross-legged and took off his rucksack. He retrieved the meat pie from it and, after splitting it in half, bit into it with relish.

The Informant remained standing up, wrinkling his nose. "A meat pie won't cure illusions."

"It won't," Russell admitted. He took another large bite and offered The Informant his half.

When they continued, the whispers left him alone.

 

* * *

 

The next day, the forest became a swamp. The ground was soft and squished under their feet, but the real danger came from the noxious fumes that rose from the pools of black water that dotted their path. The air was thick with their poison and heavy to breathe.

As soon as the sun set, Russell looked for a suitable camping spot and spread out the blanket on the sturdiest patch of land he could find.

"We'll suffocate if we spend the night here," said The Informant.

Russell said nothing. Instead, he wrestled with the lid of the potpourri container, then, finally managing to screw it open, placed the bowl on the edge of the blanket and lay down with his head next to it.

The Informant joined him on the other side of the blanket. "Potpourri won't purify the air."

"It won't," Russell admitted.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, seeing visions of summer, The Informant suddenly murmured: "You know...Cody hates me. Even though she likes you."

Russell's eyes briefly rested on the colourful petals and leaves in the bowl before falling shut again on their own accord. "She'd hate me too if she knew."

 

* * *

 

The next day, the swamp gave way to a snowy plain, utterly devoid of features but for a few frost-covered shrubs and a mountain range far ahead. Within minutes, Russell's skin began to to tingle, rising to goosebumps. Soon after, his fingertips turned red, then blue.

Shivering, he threw off the rucksack and took out the chanchanko. He shrugged it on, and with clumsy, numb fingers, tied the ribbon in front as best he could.

"A single piece of clothing won't save us from frost," said The Informant. Though he appeared more or less impervious to the cold, his hands were firmly tucked beneath his arms.

"It won't," Russell admitted. Hesitating, he retrieved the blanket from the rucksack as well and walked over to The Informant. He draped the blanket over him like a mantle.

The Informant slowly brought his hand outside the blanket to better hold it around himself. He gave Russell an odd look.

Several hours passed until he spoke again.

"So, you're no longer planning on murdering me?"

Russell had placed his hands in his sleeves like he had seen Kantera do with his kimono, and savoured the blessed warmth even as he answered. "Not at the moment."

The Informant smiled at something invisible in the distance. "Actually...I'm a bit disappointed. I expected you to do it on our first night here."

Russell shrugged. "I did too."

"Oh, well. It's not too late yet." The Informant's eyes flashed. "Nice to have something you can still do, isn't it?"

Russell said nothing.

 

* * *

 

The next day, they reached the mountain range. The mountain Russell found himself facing was ten times as high as the cliff they had initially descended from, and within hours, every step upwards felt like torture.

Finding a wider spot by the mountainside, he allowed his legs to give in and sank against the stony cliff. He shrugged off the rucksack and pulled out the Enigmafish Hamburger.

The Informant had collapsed down next to him, exhaustion shaving off the edge of his smug attitude. "A single hamburger won't give us the strength to climb a mountain."

"It won't," Russell admitted. He longed to stuff the entire thing in his face at once, but controlled himself enough to settle for half of it.

It wasn't until several hours later, when he gazed down at the descend, that The Informant raised his voice again. "This is futile. If you haven't found it yet, you won't find it at all."

"I have nothing to lose. I can't go back, anyway."

"True." Still, The Informant shook his head. "The further you go all alone, the harder it'll get."

Russell shrugged. The rucksack was much lighter than it had been when they had set off, but he felt its comforting weight more acutely than ever before.

"I'm not alone," he said, and began the descend.

 

* * *

 

The next day, they found themselves in a wasteland. There was nothing but dry, cracking earth, and a few brown tufts of long since withered grass.

Russell sat down in the dust, ignoring the merciless sun boring down on him from straight above, and shook what remained in his rucksack onto the ground. It was thirst rather than hunger that clawed at his throat, but with no water to have, he clutched the container full of Moonfish Soup and pried it open.

"A single helping of soup won't nourish us," said The Informant as Russell dropped the lid on the ground.

"It won't," Russell admitted. He had no spoon, but that would've only slowed him down. He brought the container to his lips and drank deeply before handing it over to The Informant.

They finished the broth, then picked off the fish and bits of vegetable by hand.

Russell wiped his hands on the ground, then rubbed them together to shake off the dust. During the meal, he had been thinking. "...I still don't know who Mayor Saxon was."

"That one..." The Informant paused while wiping his hands clean. "That wasn't your fault. That's probably why."

Russell nodded. They continued on with their journey in the usual silence.

 

* * *

 

The next day, they were greeted by a field of profound darkness so thick it was almost physical. Nothing could be perceived of what was ahead, if there was anything at all.

"That's it, then." The Informant had halted at the edge of the desert and peered at the looming darkness like it was a vaguely interesting painting instead of massive wall of nothing stretching across the horizon. "Makes sense...we have nothing left, after all."

Russell adjusted the nearly empty rucksack to sit more comfortably on his back. "We have a prayer."

"Prayers tend to be absorbed by the darkness."

"They do," Russell admitted. He took hold of the cross hanging around his neck and presented it at the darkness. At once, the cross began to shine, dimly like embers. Then, it flashed, with a blinding, white light, until settling down to a more comfortable glow that lit up its surroundings like daylight.

The Informant raised his eyebrow. "You still don't believe in any god."

"I probably never will." Russell stepped into the darkness and beckoned at The Informant. "You need to stay close."

The Informant gave him a long, appraising look. He followed.

 

* * *

 

The next day, what awaited them was a void. Neither darkness nor light mattered: there was nothing, not even ground to stand on.

"...Alright." The Informant gave Russell a sharp look. "Now we really can't go on."

"We can't," Russell admitted.

He stepped into the void.

He took another step.

He kept going.

From the corner of his eye, he saw The Informant follow, a thin, inscrutable smile on his lips.

 

* * *

 

There was no time in the void, but eventually, somehow, it melted away into a field of roses.

Russell gazed dully at his new surroundings. From a distance, all the roses appeared to be the same shade of burgundy, but looking close, the petals revealed streaks of teal, bright green, and fiery orange. The flowers blossomed on further than his eyes could see against a uniformly grey sky.

"This is the end," said The Informant.

"It is," admitted Russell. He allowed the rucksack to slide from his back.

He had forgotten the blanket on the desert, but it didn't matter; he sat down and fell on his back amidst the roses, freely letting the thorns scratch and cut into his skin. What illusion of strength had carried him so far drained away, leaving him an immobile husk. The air was mild, but even from close by there was no scent of roses. He must have forgotten what they smelled like.

The Informant sat down as well, somehow avoiding the thorns. He looked quietly at Russell, impassive rather than conceited. It made sense to Russell. They both were equally aware they would never make it back, if even there was a way back. It truly was the end.

The Informant finally broke the silence. "So...did you find what you lost?"

Russell blinked his eyes open, unaware of closing them in the first place. With great effort, he sat back up and met The Informant's eyes.

"Yeah. I mean," His lips curled up into a weak smile. "Long before I thought I would, in a way. You were there all along, after all."

"...Yes." The Informant blinked slowly. "Here I was, all along. You didn't find me until now though, did you?"

"Not really." He had guessed, during their long travel through the void, what The Informant really was, but it was only now he saw the full picture. "I think I know why I lost you."

"You do?"

Laboriously, Russell sat back up. "It wasn't that everyone hated me. Those people...I'll never know if they _liked_ me, but...they did treat me kindly."

"Yes. The problem was never that everyone hated you." The Informant leaned forward. "It was you that was the problem. You allowed your suffering to change you. You resented those who could still show kindness, and the kinder to you they were, the more you hated them. That's when you locked me away. Because it was easier that way."

Russell couldn't deny any of it.

"There's one thing I don't understand..." The Informant looked genuinely puzzled. "How did you find me here? You were supposed to learn to feel from the people in town. It shouldn't have been possible for you to discover me without them."

"That's because I didn't." Russell raised his hand to his chest, to the beating heart that wasn't really his heart. "They're right here with me."

The Informant understood the gesture, anyway. "So, you re-learned to love after all. That's good." His eyes flitted at the discarded rucksack. "Too bad all the people you love are ghosts."

"It's still love."

"It is," The Informant agreed. His smirk melted into a sad smile. "You still hate me."

"A little. A lot," Russell admitted. "It's...difficult not to."

"That's fine. I hate myself, too." The Informant shook his head. "Truth be told, I was...glad to be hidden away. Just like you were happy to be rid of me. It hurt so much less that way, didn't it? You thought you weren't strong enough to survive if I was with you."

Russell nodded.

"Who knows? It might have been true."

They stared at the roses in silence.

"Well, now you know," The Informant half whispered. "You can still kill me if you want to. Go back to what you were like before the experiment for good."

Russell said nothing.

"It's only going to hurt more if you let me live. So much more that you might not—"

The Informant never got a chance to finish the sentence. Russell lunged forward, wrapped his arms around him, and squeezed him close against his chest.

The Informant felt like a mass of thorns in his arms, ripping into his skin ten times deeper than the roses had and drawing blood. In response, he tightened his grip, clinging on like his life depended on it.

The Informant had frozen at his touch. After what felt like an eternity, he shifted, then slowly brought his arms around Russell.

"Russell..." The Informant closed his eyes. Russell followed in suit.

A breeze rushed over the roses, or perhaps it was a whisper.

_"Thank you."_

Russell opened his eyes to find himself in a hospital bed, staring at a white ceiling and hearing the machine hooked up to his arm give a beep of alarm.

 

* * *

 

The following several hours were a blur. There were dozens of unfamiliar faces that came and went, and as many unfamiliar voices. There were endless tests to see how well his body still functioned, countless questions he had no answers for, and overheard snatches of conversations he wasn't meant to catch.

Eventually, however, he was led back to the room in which he had woken up. The lights were been turned off and the door locked.

Russell lied in place in silence.

The room was cold, but he felt warm. His stomach was empty, but he felt no hunger. The air was heavy with the hospital's oppressive atmosphere, but he breathed with ease. Darkness surrounded him at all sides, but he bathed in daylight.

The following day was a mystery. He had gathered from hushed discussions between staff members that the Happy Dream Experiment hadn't been officially cancelled yet, and whether or not it would continue was still up in the air.

Perhaps they'd make him go back to the dream world. He didn't know how to feel about it.

Perhaps he'd be executed instead. He didn't mind. He liked the thought, even.

There was only one thing he knew for certain as he drifted to a dreamless sleep.

Where there had been a void before, there was a heart again, and it would keep beating until the moment he died.


End file.
